


Life After Death

by AndreaDTX



Series: Life After Death [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, Good dad Oliver, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-11 10:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11146677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaDTX/pseuds/AndreaDTX
Summary: Oliver and William are the only Lian Yu survivors. Oliver has many roles: billionaire playboy, boyfriend, super hero, mayor. But can he be Dad?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fan fic ever. As a counselor, I was very intrigued by the idea of how Oliver would cope with the loss of his team, family, and friends, in addition to being faced with the idea of being the sole guardian of a son he doesn't know who desperately needs him. My intention is for the rest of the Arrow-verse to help Oliver become the good guy and great father he never dreamed he'd get to be (#1 Dad Joe West to the rescue!).

On May 24th 2017, Oliver Queen officially became a father. Sure, William had technically been around for over a decade, but life had always found a way to keep them apart. Until that day. When life, or rather the lack of it, finally threw them together.

In the immediate aftermath of Chase’s suicide and the massive explosion, Oliver had wanted to shield William. To make sure he didn’t see anything else that would further scar him. But William insisted. An avid comic book fan who’d grown up in awe of The Flash, The Green Arrow, Super Girl and the rest, William had demanded they go back to the island. After all, miraculous escapes always happened when you were dealing with super heroes and their arch enemies. Nobody is officially dead until you see the bodies, right?

Well, they’d seen the bodies. All of them.

William and Oliver sailed around to the east side of the island where Oliver had ordered the team to meet. Once docked, the father-son duo had pushed inland, searching for any survivors. Oliver pulled his bow and pushed William behind him. This time, William did not argue and for a brief moment, Oliver dared to wonder if William was following his dad, the Green Arrow, or if he was simply so desperate to find his mom that he’d trust anyone to lead him to her.

Thea had been closest to the ARGUS supply plane. Her nickname was Speedy for a reason. Curtis and Renee had been a little further back, landing within a few feet of each other. They found Quentin’s corpse huddled over Felicity, Felicity’s tablet melted into her hand. Oliver stumbled to a stop. Each additional team member he found increased the god awful heaviness in his stomach, the lightweight dizziness that was making his head spin and making it hard for his eyes to focus, but seeing Felicity…

_Just in case._

The words following what turned out to be their last kiss. Oliver swallowed hard against the tightness in his throat and the burning pressure behind his eyes. He and Felicity… they’d been up and down and together and not, but… he’d thought they’d have more time. Time to figure it out. But time had run out.

“We have to keep going… We have to find her.”

William’s voice, deep enough to show he’d started his path towards becoming a man, but shaky enough to show that he was still very much a little boy, startled Oliver out of his morose thoughts. Oliver nodded and retightened his grip on his bow. They continued forward.

They found Dinah. Then Nyssa. And finally, a huddle of bodies. Oliver heard William’s breath hitch and the boy’s feet stilled, refusing to move any closer.

“I’ll go. Wait here.”

Oliver tucked his bow behind his back and headed forward even as he already knew what he would find.

Diggle was on the left-hand side, his leather jacket burned away, exposing skin scorched to the bone. Slade was on the right, his suit melted soft. They’d both tried to provide protection to the only true civilian in the group. A tear slid down his own face as Oliver gently moved Dig, his body guard and best friend of five years, to the side. The fire hadn’t ravaged Diggle’s front side and John’s face was as relaxed as Oliver had ever seen it. Oliver repeated the gentle removal with Slade, a man who had in turns been Oliver’s savior, his mentor, his torturer and his sworn enemy. Slade’s Mirakuru driven insanity had wiped out part of Oliver’s family, but in the end, Slade had died trying to protect the other. And for that, Oliver could find forgiveness for the man.

Having moved the two men, Oliver knelt by the body he’d most been dreading. Samantha. While accepting that Felicity was gone personally hurt him, he felt an even deeper pain now because he knew how much this would hurt his only son.

Samantha’s body was not burned. Instead, she was covered in scrapes, as though the initial blast had simply knocked her off of her feet. She’d landed on her stomach, either landing there naturally or being pushed into the more protective position by Slade or Diggle. There were small pools of blood surrounding her. A few soft touches with his fingertips revealed the shrapnel perforating her body. Rather than dying in the massive blast, Samantha appeared to have died of blood loss from dozens of shrapnel wounds. Apparently Slade and Dig had gotten to her too late and their shield attempts had been in vain, the fire and concussive blasts had not been the true threat to her life.

A soft cry ripped through the air, snatching Oliver’s attention from his almost detached inspection. He looked up to see William’s teary gaze glued to Samantha’s body. Williams cries quickly grew from soft, dazed whimpers until they were loud, gasping sobs that racked the boy’s body and he sank next to Samantha’s body. Oliver turned kneeling next to the son he barely knew, unsure how to offer comfort to a boy who’d just lost his entire world. He pulled the boy into a hug. William sank his head onto Oliver’s shoulder but his arms hung limply by his sides, neither accepting the hug nor pushing out of it.

“I don’t… I don’t understand. She can’t… Why would he… Why would he hurt her? Why would he hurt my mom?”

Oliver sighed. He didn’t know how to even begin explaining the demons that drove Adrian Chase’s madness. “He was a very sick and angry man. He… He wanted everyone to hurt like he hurt.”

Still staring at his mother’s body, William pulled back and scrubbed a hand across his teary eyes. “He said you could have kept this from happening.”

The words were flat. Not quite an accusation. Not quite a question. Just a statement. And Oliver again wondered if William was addressing the dad he hardly knew or the superhero he’d always admired.

_Why didn’t you save her?_

“I… I tried,” Oliver said, the words fall from his mouth like rusty nails, painful and useless. “I tried to stop him, but—“

The words were interrupted, drowned out by the sound of chopper blades. Oliver peered into the sky, prepared to grab William and run deeper into the still burning cope of trees.

An ARGUS helicopter. Lyla. Safety.

Oliver was swamped by both relief and dread. He and William would be rescued. But he was one step closer to having to inform Lyla and JJ that their lives would never be the same. That Oliver’s sins had cost them a husband and a father.

As the helicopter searched for a place to land, Oliver stood and surveyed the burning wasteland before him, still clutching William to his side. Before the explosion, he’d taken Slade’s words to heart. Turning the words over and over again. And as he’d stood in front of Chase, seeing what refusing to accept the past could drive a man to do, he had to let his father’s death go. But now… how could he keep living after everyone else had died?

No. Not everyone. He had a son. A son who needed him. A boy who had no one else.

Ten years ago, Oliver fought to keep living to honor his father’s dying wish. Maybe now, he could push the pain aside and keep living for his son.


	2. Chapter 2

For the next week and a half, Oliver wore his black suit more than anything else. Funeral after funeral, memorial service after memorial service. Although the city as a whole did not understand who John, Thea, Felicity and the others had truly been, there had been a massive desire to support their mayor who had lost his sister, his friends, and a large portion of his mayoral staff at the hands of the same mad man who’d terrorized the whole city for the better part of a year. The sympathy had even outweighed any morbid desire the media may have had to dig into the sudden appearance of a nearly teenaged love child.

There was, however, wide speculation about the conspicuous absence of the city’s entire vigilante force.

The Green Arrow and his friends were nowhere to be found.

On the other hand, Oliver Queen was everywhere. He attended every memorial, keenly aware of everyone hanging on each word he spoke, watching his every reaction, judging each moment of his mourning, waiting to see if he would break down or carry on stoically. He still had his mayoral duties. The entire city was looking to him for leadership. Most of his inner cabinet needed to be replaced. The police chief was still comatose and his department needed directives regarding the criminals who’d been set free following the reveal of Adrian Chase’s dual identities. Each time Oliver met with the department, they wanted to know if he’d heard from the Green Arrow. While they might publicly complain about his interference, it was clear that Star City’s Finest had gotten use to the team’s extra-legal help.

Oliver responded truthfully, saying he didn’t know when anyone would hear from the Green Arrow again.

Today was the hardest, though. Today, they laid Samantha to rest. The service was being held in Central City since that’s where William and Samantha had lived before they’d been forced into hiding. 

As the minister droned on, Oliver stared straight ahead at the casket. It was a sleek cherry wood box that gave no indication of the vibrant life led by the woman inside. He glanced over at William, who was dressed in a black suit of his own complete with a tie Oliver had tied for him because William hadn’t known how. William sat, silent and glassy eyed. Throughout the service, he alternated between sitting ramrod straight and leaning into Oliver, as though he was unsure he wanted the support. Determined to provide whatever comfort he could, Oliver put an arm around William when he leaned in and released him when the boy pulled away.

After the minister dismissed the memorial, Oliver stood. The crowd filed away, but a few people stopped to give condolences to William or to cast curious glances at Oliver. Even if they didn’t know how exactly Oliver was connected to Samantha or William, the notoriety of his name was enough to garner interest at his mere presence, particularly in the front row.

Soon, the whole crowd had dispersed. William remained seated and Oliver paused, not wanting to interrupt the boy’s last few moments with his mother. Looking around, he noticed familiar faces in the back row of chairs. He raised a hand and beckoned them forward.

“Hey, Oliver. I’m sorry for your loss.” Barry Allen stepped forward and gave Oliver a quick hug. A year earlier, Oliver had joked to Barry that he wasn’t much of a hugger, but today he was just happy to see the living face of someone he’d fought beside.

Joe West, Barry’s adoptive father, clapped a hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry to hear what happened. I know we’ve had disagreements in the past, but just know you always have friends in Central City.”

“Thanks, Barry. Joe.”

Joe looked past Oliver to William. The boy hadn’t moved, not even breaking his gaze from Samantha’s casket.

“How’s he doing?” Joe asked.

Oliver sighed. “I’m worried about him. He doesn’t talk. He’s barely eating. He’s not sleeping very well. But I don’t know what to do for him.”

“He’s had a lot of change,” Barry said. “He’s lost his mom. He’s had to leave everything behind and move twice in one year. And he’s found out his dad is the Green Arrow. That’s a lot to take in.”

“Yeah. No kidding,” Oliver said. “I hated to uproot him, but city law requires the mayor to live within city limits. I want to give him normal, but there’s nothing normal about this.”

“If you want, I can try to talk to him,” Barry said. “I was about his age when a supervillain pretty much rocked my entire existence.”

“Yeah. Why don’t you two come over for dinner?” Joe asked. “You don’t have to be back in Star City tonight do you?”

“We could stay overnight,” Oliver said. “I’d appreciate that.” 

Barry had a way of connecting with people that Oliver sometimes envied. Oliver put a hand on William’s shoulder. The touch startled William enough to break his concentrated stare. It was probably for the best. While Oliver hated to do anything that felt like rushing him, it probably wasn’t healthy to let the boy stare at the casket forever.

“William, these are my friends, Barry Allen and his dad, Joe West. We’re going to have dinner at their house. Sound good?”

William shrugged, but stood up from his seat. With a hand on his son’s back, Oliver started to guide the group through the now empty chairs and towards the waiting limo.

“So William, I hear you’re from Central City,” Barry said.

William nodded.

“My dad, Joe, works for CCPD. Sometimes he gets to work with the Flash. Isn’t that cool?”

William glanced to the right at Joe and then over his shoulder at Oliver before meeting Barry’s gaze for the first time. “Not really. I don’t like superheroes anymore.”

Both Barry and Joe raised an eyebrow, recognizing the barb for what it was. Oliver gave a resigned shrug, unwilling to begrudge William the right to feel that way. There was no way for Green Arrow to rectify this situation, but Oliver continued to hold out hope that at some point Oliver Queen could fill in the gap.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was longer than I expected, but I always have a soft spot for the West-Allens and Joe West is the best.  
> _____

Oliver flopped down on Joe’s living room couch, letting the banked exhaustion and weariness sweep over him. He’d finally loosened his tie and discarded his suit jacket the way he’d been itching to do all day, safe in the knowledge that he was temporarily out of the public eye and no one here was judging him.

For dinner, Joe had made a thick, spicy chili, which was actually one of Oliver’s favorite foods. In addition to Barry, Joe’s other children, Iris and Wally, had shown up.

Iris, a very pretty lady a handful of years Oliver’s junior with skin the color of brown sugar, had been a consummate host, attempting throughout dinner to engage William in conversation, asking about school and his interests. William answered in one or two word responses, but it was more than he’d said to Oliver since they’d left the island. It didn't escape Oliver's notice that William didn't even finish his bowl.

After everyone had finished eating, all of the West-Allen children had gravitated upstairs, cajoling William to Barry’s childhood bedroom with the promise of board games. From the living room, Oliver could hear slight strains of laughter and he imagined that maybe one of those peals was William.

Tossing a dish towel onto the counter, Joe rounded the sofa back and dropped into the recliner perpendicular to where Oliver sat.

“Long day, huh?” Joe asked.

“The longest.”

Both men sat in silence letting the sounds from upstairs filter through the floor. Oliver dropped his head back against the cushion behind him and tilted his head to look at Joe.

“I have no idea what I’m doing. What if I’m doing it all wrong? What if I’m just making him worse?”

Joe looked down, seeming to gather his thoughts, and then rubbed a hand across his face. Letting his hands drop to rest on his stomach, Joe looked at Oliver.

“Well… He’s still alive, so you’re getting it at least a little right. The rest… you just kind of have to feel your way through. There’s not really a magical guide on how not to further mess up an already traumatized kid. Lord knows I could have used it. Three times over.” Joe glanced over to the pictures of his kids that decorated the wall. “Iris after her mom took off. Wally when he found out who I really was. And Barry… For Barry, I would have needed a whole ‘nother book just for him. Did he ever tell you how he came to live with us?”

Oliver nodded. “Reverse Flash killed his mom, but his dad was blamed and sent to prison. He didn’t have any other family, so you took him in.”

“Right,” Joe said. “But back then all Barry could say was that a man in a yellow suit that moved faster than lightning had killed his mother and that his dad was innocent. He would tell anybody that would listen. Hell, he’d tell people who wouldn’t listen.”

“Which was pretty much everybody, I’m guessing.”

Joe sighed. “Right. This was years before the particle accelerator explosion. No one had ever heard of a meta-human or time travel. We all just assumed he was a traumatized little boy who was trying to make sense of what had happened in the only way that would let him be with the only parent he had left.”

Joe paused, his gaze clearly focused on his memory of the past. His gaze sharpened, his mind returning to the present, and he let out a derisive laugh.

“He told me over and over again. ‘Joe, it wasn’t my dad. It was a man in a yellow suit.’ And every time I would try to set him straight. ‘I know you want to be with your dad, Bar. But there’s no evidence that anybody else was there.’ He told me over and over again. And then, without me really realizing it, he just… stopped.

“Just stopped?” Oliver repeated. It didn’t really fit the Barry Allen he knew. As jovial and even perhaps naïve as Barry could be, he was like a dog with a bone when it came to things and people he really cared about.

“Just stopped. Never brought it up again,” Joe said. “But that’s when the nightmares began. Night terrors really. He’d waking up screaming, drenched in sweat, but when I asked him about it, he wouldn’t tell me what he’d dreamed about. But I knew.”

Oliver let out a low hum. Even now Barry still liked to talk things out. Every time they worked together, Barry peppered him with dozens of questions. It had likely hurt Barry deeply to continually be talking, desperately telling the truth, but never feel like he was being heard.

“So what did you do?”

Joe gave a frustrated flap of his hands. “What could I do? Part of me, the part that always want to give Barry whatever he needs, wanted to put him therapy. But the other part, the part that swore to protect Barry, knew that if Barry kept insisting that a man with magic powers had killed his mother, we wouldn’t be able to keep him safe and with us.”

“Right.” Oliver agreed. “Same thing with me and William. If he goes around telling people that his dad, the mayor, is secretly Green Arrow and the former DA, who was also the Star Throwing Killer, committed suicide in front of him in order to blow up an island and killed everyone on it…” Oliver tossed a flat, disgusted laugh and ran a hand over the bristles of his short-cropped hair. The words sounded insane even to his own ears and he’d witnessed himself and knew it to be the unadulterated truth. “One of us would end up locked up, either in Iron Heights or some looney bin.”

Joe tilted his head in agreement. “The truth is stranger than fiction in our world.”

Oliver stood and walked over to the wall of photos. He took a moment to look at the pictures of the young kids who Joe had nurtured from traumatized children to functional adults. They looked normal. Happy. A small picture of Iris, Joe, and a lady Oliver didn’t know. A slightly larger picture of a young Barry and Iris playing at a public pool. A teenaged Wally grinning while working under the hood of car. All three of them at STAR labs.

No indication of their rough beginnings. Nothing to indicate that two of the three would literally become super heroes.

“So what do I do, Joe? What did you do? Barry’s basically normal. Or, as well-adjusted as someone in our line of work can be.” Oliver turned back to Joe, who watched him from his seat on the recliner. “How can I be sure that I haven’t accidentally kick started another Prometheus in my own son? I can’t let that happen to William. I can’t let Adrian win.”

Joe stood and joined Oliver in front of the family photos. He put a hand high on Oliver’s back, a fatherly gesture Oliver hadn’t felt in nearly a decade, making Oliver realize how much he missed his own dad. Robert Queen may not have been the paragon he pretended to be, but Oliver felt his absence every day with an almost physical ache.

“Well, for starters, you can’t think about it terms of whether Adrian or Prometheus, or whatever the hell he called himself, won or loss. Your whole focus has to be on your son.” Joe reached out and ran a finger over the framed photo of Barry and Iris. “With Barry, even though I didn't know enough to believe his story, I let him know that I was there for him unconditionally. No matter what the truth was, he is always welcome in this house and I will always be here for him.”

Joe turned and picked up another picture frame from the bookshelf catty corner to where they stood. He passed it to Oliver.  It was a photo of a smiling teenaged Barry holding a certificate standing in front of a poster board. A science fair of some sort.

“When Barry started to get older and developed an interest in science, in forensics, I supported it. I knew what he was doing, that he still wanted to exonerate his dad, but it also made him happy. He felt useful. Less helpless. It gave him some of his power back.”

Oliver passed the frame back and Joe placed it back with care. Oliver looked over the shelved display. There were just as many pictures of Barry as there were of Iris, Joe’s biological daughter. There were more of Barry than Wally who’d Joe had met after Wally had reached adulthood.

“Most importantly, I let him know that I was taking care of him and I considered him family, but I wasn’t trying to replace his dad.” Joe circled back to the recliner and retook his seat. “I respected that relationship. Never really talked about Henry’s conviction beyond whatever Barry wanted to discuss. I didn’t want him to think I was trying to tarnish or take away the memories he had.”

Oliver rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. Barry had been lucky to find Joe. Although Joe would probably say it was really the other way around. Joe was stern but warm and served as a bedrock of stability for Barry. Anything Oliver had to offer would be even less than a pale imitation.

“I don’t know, Joe. I’m just… I’m not touchy feely like you guys.”

“Look. No one expects you to change overnight. But kids need to know you care. I’m a cop,” Joe said with a smirk. “I’m all about force and logic. But I’m also a dad. To kids who lost their mothers when they needed ‘touchy feely’ the most. I’m not saying you have to cuddle the kid. Shoot, he’d probably freak out if you tried.”

Joe laughed as though the thought truly tickled him, pulling a small smile from Oliver as well.

“All I’m saying is you’ll be fine. You just gotta figure it out in a way that he can understand. He’s probably feeling really alone right now. You gotta let him know you’re there for him and figure out a way to connect that works for both of you. And if you get stuck, don’t forget, Barry’s not the only person in Central City you can call for help.”

Later, after Iris and Barry left and Joe had helped William settle into Barry’s old bedroom across from Wally for the night—Oliver laughed to himself thinking how surprised William would be if he knew he was literally sleeping in The Flash’s old room—Oliver lay on the pullout sofa bed. His conversation with Joe kept playing through his head. A way to connect with William. Oliver had spent a lot of time avoiding making connections in a bid to keep everyone safe. Clearly that hadn’t worked.

A way to let William know that Oliver cared.

Oliver had the perfect idea.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the perfect idea, Oliver admitted to himself as he passed a trail marker, his pace at what felt like nearly a crawl while William still managed to be half a dozen feet behind.

The first warning sign should have been that William didn’t really have any athletic clothes, let alone gear appropriate for hiking. But Oliver had been so excited at the idea of sharing this experience with his own son that he hadn’t heeded any of the obvious tells. 

When he was younger, Oliver had always looked forward to hiking trips with his father. Robert Queen had been a prominent citizen and wealthy businessman with connections everywhere. As such, there were constant demands for his attention. Business trips, dinners, meetings, conferences. There was always something that had Robert out of the house well before Oliver and Thea woke in the morning and kept him out long past the time when they’d failed at their vigil to stay awake until dad got home. Oliver spent a lot of time feeling invisible, frustrated that his father couldn’t find time for his only son. 

But one weekend every summer, Oliver got his father’s undivided attention.

The first weekend of June, the Queen men went back to nature. It was an intentionally picked time, encompassing both Father’s Day, the first weekend of summer vacation, and only two weeks after Oliver’s birthday. Robert completely cleared his schedule, unhooked from all his work tethers, and left instructions that he was not to be bothered for any reason short of a family or national emergency. Thea and their mom, Moira, took off for their own mother-daughter weekend, a much more glamorous and pampered spa-based experience, but Oliver had liked roughing it. He’d liked the idea of sharing something with his dad that was so far removed from their everyday existence. Oliver had cherished that time as the center of his dad’s attention and thought William might see it that way, too. That was now an obvious miscalculation.

Oliver cupped a hand to his brow, forming a makeshift visor, allowing him to survey the trail and the position of the tree shadows cast by the sun. They’d have to set up camp soon or risk being caught hiking past dark. While that wouldn’t be much of a problem for Oliver, William had trouble keeping up in broad daylight. Oliver wouldn’t risk him tripping and hurting himself hiking past dusk. Coming to a full stop, Oliver reached into his backpack to pull his map. They’d been following a herd path his dad would have considered a walk-up to the campsite they’d always used, but he and his dad had never failed to finish the trek by nightfall. Oliver would have to find a campsite for tonight at this level.

Finding what he was looking for, Oliver re-folded the map, put it back in his backpack, and set out to traverse the wooded area ahead of them, but not before he heard a soft, disgruntled ‘Ohmigawd’ from William. He turned to look at the boy, but William’s face was schooled into a completely blank, if a bit sweaty and red-faced, mask of perfect calm.

“We’re almost there. A few hundred yards off the path and then we can bunker down for the night,” Oliver offered. William gave no reply but followed, much like he’d done the whole day. Or pretty much the entire time he’d been in Oliver’s care.

That actually made Oliver wonder. William hadn’t directly addressed him in the entire two weeks they’d been together. Not ‘Oliver’. Certainly not ‘Dad’. Not even ‘Hey, you.’ Oliver barely rated eye contact. They’d never talked about it. Oliver didn’t want to push, but the constant uneasy silence was getting to him. That would probably make people laugh since his cover story was that he’d spent five years on a deserted island, but the truth was he may have been far from home, but he was rarely alone and everyone he’d met had plenty to say to and about him.

They reached the campsite Oliver had seen marked on his map. Oliver eased his backpack off and knelt to poke around at the fire pit at the center of the clearing. Temperatures would start to drop soon and they would need a fire to keep them warm. Shouldn’t be hard to find kindling out here.

In his peripheral, he saw that William hadn’t so much sat as collapsed against one of the logs that formed a ring around the fire pit. He tried to keep an eye on the boy as he assembled the two-man pop tent that had been rolled at the top of his pack. Oliver watched out of the corner of his eye as William pulled his canteen and tilted it toward his mouth. The boy gave a frustrated grunt when only a few drops fell into his waiting mouth.

Oliver walked back towards the fire pit and dug into his backpack to snag his own canteen.

“Here.”

He tossed the water jug over. William didn’t even attempt to catch it. “I don’t need your water.”

Oliver blinked, surprised to get a whole sentence. “Well, that would make you a medical miracle. From what I’ve heard, everyone needs water. Although, you’ve lived in Central City almost your whole life, so I guess nothing should surprise me at this point.”

“I meant I can get my own water.”

“Ah. So were you planning to hike two miles up to the next water pump or a mile and a half down back to the last one we passed where you ignored me when I told you to refill your canteen?” The words came out a bit sharper than Oliver intended but he wasn’t asking the boy to declare his undying familial devotion. He was asking him to drink some water so he didn’t die of dehydration. That was reasonable, right?

William’s face flushed red. He flung the canteen with a surprising accuracy and strength and only Oliver’s honed reflexes allowed him to avoid what would have been a pretty deep shin bruise. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you or your water.”

Well, he’d definitely been heavily endowed with the Queen tendency for stubbornness beyond reason. Hopefully he had a healthy dose of the Queen pride as well.

“Fine. I’ll leave it here. It’s an extra anyway. You can drink it or not. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Either way, I’m totally strong enough to carry you back down when your muscles start cramping from dehydration. Probably won’t even have to. We’ll pass plenty of bikers and RV’ers who’ll see you slung over my shoulder and be glad to help get you down safely. Plus, I’m very well known. It’ll probably even make the news. They’ll get commendations for saving the mayor’s son’s life. A big ceremony with TV cameras and everything. It’ll be fun.”

Oliver kept rambling as he leaned the canteen against the log between his backpack and the one William was reclined against. William was pointedly ignoring him, staring straight up at the night sky. Oliver took a moment to lean a small, nickel sized rock against the canteen.

“Okay. We need kindling if we’re going to heat up food. I’ll go get some. Holler if you need me.”

Oliver suspected William would sooner swallow his tongue than admit he needed anything, but he also knew how hard it was to back down when you’d been spoiling for a fight. Oliver tromped around for much longer than he needed, making sure to step on every leaf and twig he saw, creating a level of noise that would have been appalling if he was in costume, but made it easy for William to track his movements.

“Alright, I’ve got the wood. One fire coming right up.” He looked at William who didn’t appear to have moved an inch, except to remove his backpack, but a quick glance told him the rock had been knocked over and there was a scuff in the dirt where the canteen hadn’t been placed precisely back in the same position. William may have inherited an ability for stealth, but precision took practice.

After he got the fire going steady, Oliver set up the collapsible grilling grate he’d stowed in his back before popping open two cans of frank and beans with his Swiss army knife. He stripped the paper wrappings from the cans and then with the point of a blade, he speared the floating pork fat that had always grossed him out as a kid and flicked it into the fire, listening as the fat popped and crackled and a pleasant bacon smelled wafted across the clearing. Which actually brought a thought to mind... 

“Do you have any food allergies or, uh, religious dietary restrictions I should know about?”

William looked at Oliver long enough to roll his eyes before returning to what he would have Oliver believe was an intense study of the night sky. “If I did you’d have triggered it by now.”

“Only if you actually ate any of the food I gave you. I’ll take that as a no.” 

Oliver set the open cans on top of the grate and kept an eye on them until they started to bubble. Using a folded bandana, he pulled both cans off the fire. He stuck a plastic spork in each can and set one in front of himself before holding the other out to William.

William stared at the can as though Oliver was offering him hemlock, but Oliver waited steadily to see if William would listen to his pride or his stomach. After a few tense moments, like most pre-teen boys, he couldn't ignore the hunger pangs and reached for the can.

“Be careful. It’s hot. Use the bandana.”

William grunted but slowly and then more quickly started to shovel the beans into his mouth. However upset he might be with Oliver, his body had not forgotten that it had burned through its energy stores on the hike. 

Oliver ate at a more deliberate pace. Silence settled between them, but not as tense as before.

“My dad used to bring me out here every year.”

William looked up when Oliver spoke, more out of reflex than intention. He quickly dropped his head down to stare into his can.

“That’s why I brought you out here. I thought you might like it. It’s kind of a Queen family tradition.”

“You’re not my family,” William said.  The words were a murky mix of anger and sadness.

Oliver set down his can and turned his head towards William, but didn’t move, not wanting to startle the boy. “The thing is, I kind of am. I wasn’t around, but I am your father. And I want to be your family and for you to be mine.”

“Some father you are. You just showed up last year. Did you finally decide you had time for me?”

Oliver took a deep breath and considered his words. “Well, first, I think it’s important you know that I didn’t know about you. Your mom wanted you to have the best, safest life possible and she thought the best way to do that was in another city. Away from my family.”

William blinked as though he wasn’t sure what to do with the information. “Because your family was bad?”

“Because my family was…complicated. Because _I_ was complicated.” Oliver turned to fully face William. “I’d like to think that if I’d known about you, I would have immediately done the right thing and been a great father, but the truth is I’m not sure I would have. I can’t say that your mom made the right or wrong decision, but I think she made the best decision she could at the time. And now that she’s… not here anymore, I’m trying to make the best decisions I can to do what I know she would want which is to keep you safe and make sure you’re cared for.”

William put down his can with an empty rattle and pulled his legs up to his chest. He pressed his face against his knees. If Oliver hadn’t been so concentrating so intensely on him, he would have missed the boy’s muffled words. “I miss my mom. I miss her, and I want to go home.”

Oliver slid over to sit right next to William. He put an unsure hand on William’s back and pulled him against his side. “I know you do. She was an amazing mom and I’m sure I’m a really crappy substitute. But do you think maybe you could give me a chance?”

William gave a miserable shrug and huddled his knees into his chest tighter. Oliver could hear the sniffles William was trying to keep silent and feel the shaky crying. This was usually the point where Oliver would walk away. He had no idea how to deal with tears. But walking away wasn’t an option.

He sat and he rubbed slow circles on William’s back, the way his own mom had done when he was upset as a kid. Oliver sat there long enough that he lost track of time and he could feel pins and needles. Eventually the sniffling and shaking stopped, but William didn’t uncurl. It took Oliver a moment to realize the boy had fallen asleep.

“Hey. William,” Oliver gave him a light shake.

William’s eyes fluttered open.

“You fell asleep on me.” 

William startled to scramble but Oliver shushed him. “No. It’s fine. I just thought you might be more comfortable in your sleeping bag in the tent.”

William nodded sleepily and reached over to pull his sleeping roll from its perch atop his backpack. He then crawled into the tent and haphazardly spread his tent before flopping down on his stomach, making Oliver laugh. It reminded him of Thea when they were kids.

William was almost asleep before his eyes shot back open. “Are you going to sleep in here?”

Oliver shrugged. “It is a two-man tent. But I can sleep out here by the fire if it would make you more comfortable.”

William paused for a moment, considering it, before shaking his head. “Nah. It’s fine.”

He slumped back down into sleeping bag having no idea how much his few words of acceptance meant to Oliver. Oliver banked the fire and slid into the tent with his own sleeping bag, careful not to jostle the sleeping child beside him. Hiking may have been a disaster, but it still turned out perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

“What am I supposed to call you?” William asked.

He and Oliver were back in the loft which had taken a long, windy route of ownership from Oliver’s stepfather, Walter, to Thea, who’d had the fortuitous foresight to include Oliver on the lease, to Felicity and now back to Oliver. William’s sneakered feet kicked a steady tempo against his chair leg and he sported a milk mustache from where he’d drank the milk from the bowl after finishing the sugary cereal that was sure to give him a sugar high followed by an equal and opposite sugar low. 

Oliver turned from the stove where he’d been plating an omelet and walked over to sit at the kitchen table. He handed William a napkin and motioned towards his top lip. The boy ran the cloth across the mouth and almost got all of the milk.

“Call me? I dunno. What do you want to call me?”

William shrugged. “I dunno. ‘Dad’ feels weird ‘cause I don’t really know you.” 

Oliver ignored the pang of sadness he felt. The off-handed words weren’t intended to make him feel bad and Oliver knew they weren’t intended to hurt, but they still did. They would get there eventually. William just needed time.  Oliver snagged the newspaper that rested on the corner of the table. “You could call me Mayor Queen. That’s what most people call me.”

William responded with the expected scoff and shake of the head. “People would think I’m such a weirdo!”

“Mr. Queen?”

“No!”

“His majesty? His royal Queen-ness? Actually, never mind,” Oliver said before William could respond.

Oliver tossed out a few more silly suggestions as he opened the paper just enough to see the front-page headline. It had a big splash of a crime scene and a reminder that Vigilante, one of the few masked people not to get caught up in Adrian’s scheming, was still out in the city and killing people. Another mask had shown up, this one a lady calling herself Cheshire. A mercenary type that reminded Oliver of a cross between Cupid and The Huntress. Apparently, she and Vigilante were at odds and a lot of civilians and cops were getting caught in the crossfire.

As mayor, he was briefed daily on the city’s criminal underbelly. He also knew that a certain crimson streak had been darting in and out of the city, periodically helping thwart crime. But as his aides, the police department, and the local media had been quick to point out, The Flash had his own city to protect. The question was beginning to repeat more insistently: Where was Team Arrow?

Star City needed help. They needed the man in the hood.

But they weren’t the only ones.

Oliver put the paper down and returned his focus to William, but the boy was now looking at the headline as well. He then looked up at Oliver, a sly grin slipping onto his face.

“Can I call you the Green Arrow?” He looked oddly smug.

Oliver knew this question would come eventually. He pursed his lips in thought for a moment before squaring his body to face William. “Well, here’s the thing. You’re a pretty special person. Right now, you know a secret that almost nobody else on earth knows.” 

“Okay,” William said slowly, drawing the sound out.

“Well, sometimes secrets are bad thing and sometimes they’re a good thing. You understand that everybody who does what I do has a secret identity, right?”

“Right.”

“You could meet a superhero in their everyday clothes and never know it. Like how you met me as Oliver Queen before you met me as the Green Arrow.” Oliver shrugged a shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “You live in Central City, so it’s entirely possible you’ve met the Flash and didn’t even realize it.

William eyebrows shot up and he blinked hard as he digested that thought. He may have claimed to no longer like superheroes, but clearly the possibility fascinated him.

“The point is, I have a secret identity not because I’m afraid of people knowing who I am, but because I don’t want people to know who I care about. If they know, they might try to hurt those people.”

William nodded slowly. “Like that weird guy with the blonde hair.”

“Exactly. Damien Dahrk wanted to hurt a lot of people and I was trying to stop him. He found out who I was and then used that to find out who was important to me. He took you because he knew I would do whatever it took to keep you safe even if it meant not stopping him from hurting other people. So I’m not asking you to pretend you don’t know, but I am asking you not to tell people because it helps me keep you safe.” 

William tilted his head as though he was literally letting the idea roll around his mind. “Okay. So it’s probably best not to let people know that I know the Green Arrow.”

“Probably.” 

“What did everybody else call you? Like your friends and stuff?”

“Oliver. My mom and my sister, some of my girlfriends, called me Ollie.” 

William laughed. “Ollie?”

Oliver shrugged and smiled. “I don’t know. It started as a kid. They liked it and I didn’t have the heart to make them stop even when I got older.” 

William sobered and his gaze drifted off a bit. “What did my mom call you?”

Oliver gave a soft but sad smile. “I’m sure she called me a lot of things when I wasn’t around to help raise you. But to my face, she called me Oliver.”

“Then that’s what I’ll call you” William said with a sure bob of his head. But just as quick as the certainty appeared, it faded replaced with a more gloomy look of concern. “That won’t hurt your feelings, will it? That I’m using your name.”

“No. Barry calls Joe by his first name and they get along just fine. You can call me Oliver forever or until you decide on something else.

William visibly brightened, pleased with the decision. “Cool. So what are we doing today?” 

“Well, I am going to work,” Oliver said as he stuffed a few bites of his omelet into his mouth before grabbing his tie off the back of his chair and looping it around his neck. “And you are going to day camp.”

“Day camp,” William whined.

“Yep. It’s this artsy thing I found. I saw all the posters and doodles on your walls back home and I know you like comic books, so I thought you might like to learn how to draw them yourself.” 

“Oh.” William looked genuinely surprised that Oliver had made any connections about what he might like in the few visits they’d had last year. Oliver had to smother a laugh.

“Sound good?” Oliver asked as he finished tying his tie and stood to pull on his suit jacket.

“Yeah!” 

Oliver collected their breakfast dishes and rinsed them before putting them on the drying rack. He then motioned for William to precede him to the front door.

“I think we got everything. Any questions?” He asked as he prepared to lock the door behind them.

William scrunched his face in thought. “Just one. Do you think I really met the Flash?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter, but Ollie had a lot to work out.

The week went by quickly. Work was hard with pressure coming from all angles to figure out how to stop Vigilante and Cheshire and the horde of other petty criminals who were now starting to peak their heads out of their hidey holes after a month without a peep from the man in the hood or any of his friends.

But if work was stressful, home was the opposite. Not to say caring for a ten-year-old was all rainbows and sunshine, but William was a sharp and witty child. Oliver never knew what he would say or do. 

William was currently on a Guess Who mission. He’d taken Oliver’s words to heart about anybody you meet possibly being a superhero. And William was bright enough to realize that if Oliver was the Green Arrow, he definitely knew the true identities of other crime fighters. Now, any time Oliver spoke to anyone with even the slightest hint of athleticism or agility, William would pepper him with questions. 

“Is she one of them?” William asked as Oliver’s new secretary, Mia, walked away. Oliver had finally caved to William’s many pleas to actually get to spend the day at work with him. Oliver sat at his desk working on a new proposal while William sat at the conference working on a sketch assignment the day camp had given him. He’d taken to the artwork like a pig to slop. 

“Not as far as I know,” Oliver responded, not even bothering to clarify who ‘them’ was. 

William’s face slumped in disappointment and his pencil stopped moving. “Having a sidekick as an assistant would be the perfect cover.” 

“It would,” Oliver agreed. A pang of sadness washed over him as he thought about how Felicity had been just that in the beginning. Oliver rarely let himself think about Felicity or the others. It hurt too much. And when something forcefully reminded him of the friends he’d lost… It was like ripping stitches open. 

Oliver sometimes wondered what they would all be doing if they had survived the island. They’d probably still be working, that was a given. Would surviving have made them closer or driven them apart? It was likely Samantha would have been more determined than ever to keep William clear of Oliver’s sphere of influence. But maybe not.

Thea would have loved to have a nephew to spoil. Dig would have made a great god father and JJ was just a few years shy of William’s age. Maybe they would have been friends. And Felicity… She hadn’t responded well when she found out about William, but Oliver knew that was more in response to the helpless feeling of being kept in the dark rather than her actual feelings about Oliver having a son. She was a good person. Oliver couldn’t help but believe she would have eventually come around. 

“Would you even tell me?” William asked. 

Oliver startled from his musing. “What?” 

“If we met a superhero in plain clothes, would you even tell me?” 

“Probably not,” Oliver admitted typing in a few more words into his document. 

William’s eyes scrunched up. “That’s not fair!” 

“Isn’t it, though? Just like I’m trusting you not to tell anyone who I really, they’re trusting me to keep their everyday identity private. It’s not my secret to tell. If you asked me to keep a secret, would you want me to tell just because someone else really wanted to know?”

William looked like he was about to protest some more when an alarm went off. Oliver stood as two members of his security detail rushed into the room. 

“What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but there’s a new pair of masks in town,” Will Craigan, a relatively new member of Oliver’s team replied. “They just hit the Star City Bank and the jewelry store two doors down. It looks like they’re tearing a path straight through the city. Eventually they’ll land here. We have to get you and your son somewhere safe.” 

Oliver moved to help William gather his supplies and load them into the boy’s backpack. “Has SCPD been notified?” 

“Of course, sir,” Craigan said, placing himself between Oliver and the office window, “but when they responded, one of the guys was able to… I don’t know how to describe it, he could stop bullets mid-air and then he ripped the guns out of their hands like he was controlling a big magnet.” 

Oliver paused. “So he’s a meta?”

“It looks like.” 

“Have you called anybody over at CCPD? Maybe see if they can get The Flash on this?”

Craigan nodded. “We called. I’m not sure if it’s a coincidence or a coordinated attack, but CCPD, Flash, Kid Flash and their crew currently have their hands full with their own meta problems today.” The guard watched out the window as he talked. “It’s probably a long shot, but maybe this’ll bring Green Arrow back from wherever he’s holed up.” 

William whimpered. 

Jason Morgan, the more veteran guard standing by the door, snorted. “Right. After a month of ignoring everything that’s going on, he’s just going to zip line in for a meta attack. He doesn’t even normally handle metas.” 

“You never know,” Craigan retorted defensively. “Either way, sir, we gotta get you two out of here. This building is too vulnerable if this guy really can control metal and who knows what the other one can do.” 

Oliver nodded and went back to his desk to grab his suit jacket off the back of his chair. He glanced over to where William was still quietly repacking his backpack. 

“You okay?” 

William nodded slowly. “Are you—Do you think the Green Arrow will show up? ‘Cause he might get hurt. Or killed. I don’t think he’ll show up. Do you?”

Oliver tossed a glance over to the two guards who were waiting patiently for them. “All I know is that I’m staying with you. How’s that sound?” 

“I like that” William said, his mood picking up just the slightest bit. 

“Alright. You and me, buddy. Let’s go,” Oliver said and used a hand to guide William as they followed the guards out.

-

That night, it took William much longer than usual to settle down to sleep. Oliver had given him the upstairs bedroom, but the loft’s open plan meant William could hear him anywhere in the loft. The boy fought to stay awake, watching Oliver as though he would disappear the second the boy’s eyelids touched, jerking back into wakefulness any time Oliver moved, calling his name anytime they were out of each other’s line of vision. Finally, Oliver conceded the fight and pulled a chair over and propped his feet near the foot of the bed. He pulled a stack of files out of his briefcase and settled them into his lap, making it clear he didn’t plan to go anywhere anytime soon. This seemed to reassure William and the boy finally sunk into the exhaustion that had been pulling at him for hours. 

After about an hour of looking at the files and reading the corresponding police reports on his smartphone, the same sleepiness started to beckon to Oliver and he found himself bobbing in that hazy place between awake and asleep. Just as he was about to sink fully into unconsciousness, he was snatched sharply back into awareness by the sound of something sharp hitting the glass of the balcony door. 

Olive snapped into sitting position and dropped his feet back to the floor. He checked to see if he’d disturbed William even as his hand reflexively pulled the KA Bar knife he still kept tucked into his belt. William slept on, unperturbed, his breathing deep and steady. 

Oliver eased down the stairs from the lofted sleep area and crept along the wall, keeping to the shadows of the darkened living room. The sharp tap against the glass came again. Whoever had climbed up the fire escape was going to live to regret it. If they were lucky. Oliver clutched his knife and prepared to throw open the glass doors. In three, two… 

“Oliver.” 

Oliver froze at the feminine voice. It tickled the edge of his memories, but he couldn’t quite place it. 

“I can see you. Put down the knife and open the door.” 

He frowned. He was still fully hidden by the solid wall. How did… 

“Kara?” 

The voice laughed and Oliver sat a shadowy figure land on the balcony. “Who else? Are you going to let me in or what?”

Oliver palmed the knife and flipped the lock on the door to let Kara in. She was in full red and blue uniform.

“What are you doing here?” 

Kara tossed him a bright, sunny smile. “Barry and the others are busy with a bunch of breachers, but they keep an eye on what’s going on over here. When they saw Star City had some new metas tossing the town, Barry asked Cisco to bring me over.” 

“Well, I appreciate you coming over.” 

“I’m a little confused, though,” Kara said as she stepped into the apartment.  “How exactly did I manage to avoid running into the man in the green mask while I was out there?”

Oliver frowned. “Didn’t Cisco or Barry tell you what happened?”

“They told me you needed help which was enough to get me here. From all the flowers, memorial posters, and the newspapers I’ve seen, I think I have the basic gist of what happened.” She took a moment and squinted towards the loft. “And my eyes are spying a little body that I’ve never seen before. Who’s the little guy, Ollie?”

“William. My son.” 

Kara’s mouth fell open in surprise. She quickly put a hand over her mouth as her shock turned into glee. “You have a son?! Why didn’t you ever tell me? That’s awesome!” 

She threw her arms around him, sharing Barry’s penchant for surprise hugs. Oliver returned the embrace with a quick pat before letting her go.

“I didn’t even know until about a year ago and he’s been in danger pretty much non-stop since I found out. I’ve been playing it pretty close to the vest to try to keep him safe. For all the good it did.” 

Oliver watched as Kara levitated up and over his head towards the upper landing. She hovered over the bed for a few moments before descending back down towards where Oliver stood. Kara gave a delighted giggle as she landed. 

“He’s so adorable. I can’t stand it. It’s a mini-you!” 

Oliver felt a stinging in his cheeks as an embarrassed blush rushed to his face. “He looks more like his mother.” 

“Maybe when he’s awake. But when I look at that hair and those cheeks and that adorable little nose, I see you.” 

“Thanks, I think.” 

“Is that little guy the reason Superman is having to go into Gotham?” 

Oliver frowned. “Superman? Who—Barry said your dad was dead? And what’s Gotham?”

“Oh, no! Superman’s my cousin and on Earth 19 we have—Never mind. It would take too long to explain. I’m asking if William is the reason I’m here covering for Green Arrow.” 

“Technically, I guess the answer is yes. I’ve been pretty busy trying to get him settled in. His mom, my ex, was one of the people who died on the island.” 

Kara made a sound of sadness. “I’m sorry, Ollie. I know you lost a lot of people you loved that day. I wish I could have been there to help.” 

From what Oliver had seen of her abilities, Kara would have been able to make a real difference, but given that she lived on a parallel earth that where she was one of the only superpowered protectors, she was a call of last resort. 

“I appreciate the thought, Kara.”

“So what’s the long term plan?” She asked, settling on the back of the couch.

Oliver settled on the edge of the couch back next to her. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, Barry and I are _always_ glad to help, but Star City is different from Central City or even National City. It really needs someone who can be here full time to let the bad guys know this isn’t open-season. With my cousin out there and my team back home, I know National City will be okay if I’m gone for a few days. I’m not sure the same can be said here.”

Oliver stared out the glass of the balcony door, intentionally avoiding her gaze. “It’s been a month and the city is still standing. And, unlike you and Barry, I don’t have any family or a team to back me. It’s crazy for me to try to cover the city right now. Actually, it’s pretty much impossible. Right now, a tactical retreat makes the most sense.” 

“Ok. But the word ‘retreat’ implies you plan to go back at some point. That’s not the vibe I’m getting from you.”

Oliver stood and faced Kara. “Everybody has to know their limits. I think I’ve hit mine. I can’t do this.”

Kara slid off the couch back to stand straight. “Ollie, I know you’re hurting and you’re scared, but how many times have Dig and Felicity and the others kept you from throwing in the towel? You wanted to shut it down for reason or the other and they insisted that people still needed the Green Arrow.”

“Yeah, but back then, I didn’t have a kid relying on me. I’m all he has. He’s all _I_ have.”

Kara gave him a sad smile. “Hey, you’re preaching to the choir. If anybody understands what’s it’s like to be the last of your family, it’s me. There are only a handful of Kryptonians in existence and they’re either irredeemably evil or blood related, so… yeah, I get it.” 

Anger slithered through Oliver’s veins, making his fingers and toes tingle. “Do you really? I mean, you and your cousin have super powers to protect yourselves and each other. I have a bow and arrows, martial arts, and quick thinking. William has nothing but me. And if something happens to me… There’s no one else.” 

Oliver walked over to the balcony and peered into the night for a few long moments before turning back to face Kara. 

“He thought I might go out tonight against those metas and he freaked out. It took me hours to calm him down.  And it’s not like I can promise him I won’t get hurt because I do get hurt. Right now, I don’t even have anyone watching my back. I’m alone! The last time I worked completely solo, it was against petty drug dealers and wanna be crime lords. Back before there were metal-bending metas or the world’s fastest man or a super girl.”

“Well, in my defense, I’m not a meta,” Kara said. “I was born this way and it’s completely normal to my kind.” 

“Whatever,” Oliver said with a frustrated flap of his hands. He came back to sit on a sofa arm. “I’m just a man. In a hood. And I have other responsibilities now. Going out there alone wouldn’t be fair to my son.” 

Kara seemed to give it some thought. “What about recruiting a new team? You have enough experience to at least serve as a… a mentor or trainer of some sort.”

“Don’t you think enough people have followed me to their deaths?” 

“That was not your fault! That’s all on Prometheus. He would’ve been an insane criminal even if you had never come along. He was a gas can looking for a spark.”

Oliver let out a disgusted laugh. “Well, I certainly gave him one and he used it to burn my whole life down.”

“Ollie…”

Oliver stood and put all the finality he could muster into his voice. “The answer is no. I’m not going back out there.”

“But Star City…” 

“I’ve given enough. I have one good thing left in my life and I’m going to protect him with everything I have.” Oliver crossed to the balcony and opened the door. “Thank you for coming, but you should go now.”

Kara’s face dropped and she clearly wanted to say more. Oliver concentrated on making his body language as closed as possible. Kara sighed and walked to the door.

“I know family is a touchy subject, but if you ever need me, for any reason, you know how to find me.”

Oliver nodded and watched as she lifted up, up, and away. When he could no longer see her silhouette in the night sky, he closed and locked the door. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Kara was right. Fighting crime had been very important to the team. But the keyword there was ‘team’. They had been equally adamant about him not fighting alone. The very thought of building a replacement team made his stomach burn with nausea. No one could take their place and even thinking of it in passing felt disloyal to their memory. 

Oliver pushed the thought out of his mind and went to change for bed, exchanging his dress shirt and pants for a soft, worn t-shirt and long flannel pajama pants. Ready to sleep, he climbed back up to William’s lofted bedroom. He knelt to pick up the files he’d dropped in his sleep and gave one more look at the photos before closing the folders and sliding them under his chair. He stepped towards the bed where William slept.

The boy was flopped on his stomach and had managed to kick out from under his covers. Oliver pulled the covers back over him and ran a soft, careful hand over William’s head, the warmth of sleepy skin settling something deep inside of him. Oliver hesitated, but then dared to press a soft kiss against William’s forehead, the way his own dad had done for years until a teenaged Oliver had demanded he stop when Robert accidentally woke him in the middle of the night. Oliver remembered the hurt look on his dad’s face, but at the time Oliver had been more focused on feeling embarrassed that his dad was still sneaking in to tuck him in in the middle of the night.

Oliver sat back in his chair, feet propped at the end of William’s bed, watching his son sleep.

_His son._

A son that needed his dad. A city that needed a protector. 

Could Oliver ever be both? More importantly, did he _want_ to be?


	7. Chapter 7

Time marched on and before they knew it, Oliver and William had been together for almost four months. William had his good days and bad days, like any other ten-year-old, but for the most part, they’d managed to settle into a comfortable rhythm. Summer had ended and Oliver enrolled William in school. William now attended the same prep school he, Tommy, Laurel, and Thea had attended. And unlike Oliver, William had scored well enough on the entrance exams that his admittance hadn’t required a hefty financial donation.

William seemed happy and the school therapist told Oliver that the boy seemed to be adjusting well. Nevertheless, it was always at the back of Oliver’s mind that they were only a month or two from the beginning of the holiday season when the loss of family would hit the hardest. He'd have to keep a very close eye on William.

It would be wishful thinking to hope that Star City would transition as well. The city seemed to actually be growing an active anger at Team Arrow. The consensus seemed to be that they’d created a dependency and then abandoned everyone to their own devices. It was only a matter of time until some alderman looking to capitalize on public sentiment passed a resolution condemning vigilantes despite the fact that there were no law-friendly vigilantes in town aside from Barry and his team darting in and out.

Still, resolved to stay civilian, Oliver listened while the acting police chief briefed him on this month’s concerns.

“Mr. Mayor, we’re not sure this is to the point of requiring a task force, but we’re keeping an eye on it and thought you should know about it. So far, we’ve got five people gone missing. Different ages, different races. The only thing they seem to have in common is that they're all male. “ 

Oliver followed along as the man continued talking. It wasn’t completely unheard of for people to go missing without a trace in Star City, but this cluster was abnormal for more than one reason: First, there was no criminal history to speak of amongst the group. Law abiding citizens who lived on the grid, connected to friends and family were less likely to up and vanish of their own accord. Secondly, the age range was curious. It ranged from as young as three to as old as sixty-seven. While it might not raise much of a flag when grown men disappeared, children vanishing was a cause for extreme concern and quickly created a restless, anxious community. Kids rarely wondered off on their own and they didn’t simply reappear that way either. An Amber Alert had been issued for both boys, a three-year-old and a seven-year-old, and their faces were plastered everywhere, but the police had yet to make a connection between the boys who didn’t seem to have ever crossed paths.

The third and most puzzling part of the mystery was how and when the group had gone missing.

“Okay,” Oliver said, interrupting the Chief’s explanation. “Let me make sure I’m following you. We have five victims. The first is Chase Clark, nineteen-years-old. Disappeared in the middle of the night from a trailer where he was last seen sleeping in bed with his girlfriend. She didn’t hear him leave and says his wallet, keys, cellphone and all the stuff you would never leave home without was still there.”

The chief nodded.  “Right. His bike was still outside and she says when she woke, all the windows and doors were still locked from the inside.” 

Oliver flipped to the next page of the file. Three-year-old Matt Jenson. “And this little guy was second. Disappeared from his napping mat in the middle of a pre-school classroom.”

“Surrounded by other sleeping kids and monitored by two adults who never left the room. Someone got him out without tripping over any of the others and without alerting either adult.”

Oliver sat for a moment, mulling over how that was possible. He could barely move around their apartment without waking up the only other occupant in the room. “And the security cameras got nothing?”

The chief tisked. “Well, FERPA laws prohibit cameras inside of the classroom, but it doesn’t seem like it would have done any good. None of the hallway cameras or the exterior cameras captured any footage of Matthew. All the adults either worked for the program or had children enrolled there. It’s like he literally disappeared.” 

“Sounds similar to James Evans.”

Chief Caftain nodded. Evans, an elderly man, had gone missing from the locked Alzheimer’s wing of an assisted living facility despite video surveillance and the watchful eyes of the orderlies.

“And Tyler Wilson?” Oliver asked.

“Same story but with a crowded school bus. Both his teacher and the bus driver checked him off on the list of riders and all the kids on the bus swore they’d seen him but no one saw him get off. Somewhere between school and home, he disappeared. The on-board camera just has him winking out of existence. We canvassed every inch of the bus’s route, but no joy.”

“And nobody’s heard hide or hair of Nate Olsen?”

The chief shook his head. Oliver looked at Nate’s file. His wife said he’d gotten up in the middle of the night to check on their daughter and never come back to bed. Like Chase, all his belongings were still in the house and all points of exit still secured from the inside.

“And nobody’s reported any contact with them?”

“No contact, no social media activity, no financial activity, nothing. And kids as young as Matt and Tyler don’t leave a digital trail making them almost impossible to track if they’re separated from their caretaker.”

Chief Caftain finished walking him through the briefing. Before they made a plan to double check the city’s missing cases as well as checking statewide to make sure they hadn’t missed anyone who might loosely fit into the odd collective. 

“If you don’t mind, I have personal contacts in with CCPD. I’ll meet with them to see what they know,” Oliver said. He wanted to run this by Barry and Joe regardless. 

“Yes, sir, Mr. Mayor. I’ll check the rest of the state and get back to you.”

Oliver spent another hour with his media liaison coordinating a plan for if the media picked up on a connection between the disappearances before leaving for Central City. With a short text, he arranged to meet Barry and Joe at STAR labs.

Walking into the lab was oddly strange. He hadn’t been there often in the three years he’d known Barry and he’d visited as Oliver Queen, but somehow the lab felt inexplicably tied to his alter ego.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Barry said from where he was leaned against a bank of computer equipment.

“Didn’t expect to be here, but I have a problem and I suspect it’s more your speed.”

“Pun intended?” Cisco asked as he spun around in his computer chair, a twizzler hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not sure,” Oliver replied. He laid out the photos and files and brought them up to speed. “The problem is, we can’t figure out how they’re getting out of the rooms without anyone or even the cameras seeing anything. And the closest we have to magic is metas.”

Barry and Joe both studied the board.

“Joe, is it just me or is this jumping all over your déjà vu sensor?” Barry asked, squinting at the pictures.

“No, it’s definitely not just you.” Joe pulled out his smartphone and tapped on a few buttons. “Here we go. We get sent the files but they were so sporadic and crossed so many demographics that nobody picked up that they might have been connected.”

Joe picked up a marker and wrote six names, ages, and the associated races, but the genders were all the same: male.

“So is our meta just picking random guys or is there a point to all this?” Oliver asked. “And what’s he doing with them once he gets them?”

“Well, it’s probably not sexually motivated,” Joe said. “Those guys usually pick a single race and age bracket and stick to it. This is literally all over the spectrum.”

“Cisco, can you feed this into the database? Try to figure out what they have in common?”

“Can do.” Cisco stopped spinning and cracked his knuckles before starting a mad flurry of typing. "I’ve actually been working on an algorithm that determines inter-connectivity. It’s kind of based on the idea of Seven Degrees of Kevin Bacon where if you live in the same geographical region long enough, you’re likely to be connected somehow no matter how tentatively.”

A whirl of text flew over the screen, boxes maximizing and minimizing faster than Oliver could process, but Cisco and Barry seemed to actually be reading them. Oliver looked over to Joe who just shrugged. 

Finally, after several long minutes the computer beeped.

“Hm.” Cisco huffed.

“What?” Barry leaned over his shoulder.

“Well, this is gonna sound weirder than Ozzy Osbourne narrating a kids’ story, but they’re all first-borns.” 

Oliver felt his eyebrows raise. “That’s the connection? What about Matt? He has two older sisters.”

Cisco looked at his computer again. “Correction. First-born _sons_. Even as the baby of the bunch, young Matthew is the oldest son. As are all the others according to the 2010 US census which actually doesn’t include Matthew cross matched with birth records which do. Whatever your meta is up to, it involves the first-born male of the family. Ooh, that is so biblical! We’re totally calling him The Plague.”

“Well, that explains why the abductions seem so random,” Barry said. “That’s a very specific criterion and statistically, it’s unlikely that more than one person in the house will be both male and the first-born. Maybe two max.”

“So is this guy just circling around two cities, snatching guys at random?” Joe asked.

Oliver thought for a moment, studying the board. “Joe, are your missing listed here in order of disappearance?”

“Yeah, why?”

“What were the exact dates?”

Joe looked at the file and read them out.

“Oh. I see it, too, Ollie,” Barry said, adding the dates next to the names. 

“Somebody want to fill me in,” Joe asked.

“For both cities, it looks like there’s a disappearance every other week at some point on Friday,” Cisco said, “but if you combine both Star City and Central City, he’s striking one city one week and the other city the next week.”

“Okay, so if we know that we can stop him,” Joe said. 

“Only problem is, we have no idea how he’s doing it or who he’ll target next,” Barry said as he stared at the board, “but three days from now, any first-born guy in Star City is at risk of vanishing into thin air.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Okay. So we need to figure out how he’s doing it,” Joe said.

“No one has actually seen the abductor,” Barry said, flipping through the files. He looked up at the group. “We’re assuming it’s a guy because they’re strong enough to subdue grown men.” 

“So misogynistic,” Cisco chimed in with a tsk. “Maybe the kids didn’t freak out because it was a woman. The majority of teachers are female. Kids wouldn’t think to be afraid of a woman inside a school the way they would if approached by a man they didn’t know.”

Joe picked up the marker and wrote both male and female on the side of the board opposite of the pictures and demographics of the abductees.

“What if it’s speed not strength? I’m not that much stronger than the average person, but my velocity allows me to carry people who weigh as much or more than I do. Sometimes multiple people if I need to.” 

“But your speed always creates a huge wind blast behind you,” Oliver pointed out. “And it’s very noticeable when you come through. People would remember the signs of a speedster even if they didn’t understand what they saw.” 

“Well, maybe he… or she,” Barry corrected when Cisco cleared his throat, “is invisible or can teleport or something.” 

“But even if whoever it is was invisible they would still be solid. Ditto with teleportation,” Oliver responded. 

“Oh!” Cisco yelped while snapping his fingers to get everyone’s attention. “I got it! Forget me!” 

“What?” Joe, Barry, and Oliver all turned to focus on him.

“What if part of our meta’s powers is to make people forget they’d seen him—or her—combined with some kind of electronics shielding and a dash of phasing on the side to get through doors and windows!” Cisco looked obscenely pleased with his hypothesis. 

“I dunno. Most of the metas we’ve dealt with only had one power.”

“That they honed,” Cisco insisted. “Maybe they could've had more but they only practiced the one skill because it was the most useful. Think about it, Barry. You have multiple powers, but you only discovered them once your first power, super speed, wasn’t enough to accomplish your goal. What if this guy, or girl, is the same?” 

“Is it even possible to phase a non-speedster through a solid object?” 

Cisco tilted his head, weighing the possibilities. “We’ve never tried. Fear of death and what not. But I can vibe people into other times and places, so we can’t rule it out.” 

Barry looked at Joe, who simply shrugged. 

“It wouldn’t be the craziest thing we’ve ever seen, Bar. I am willing to bet that it’s a man, though.” Joe waved a hand at Cisco’s outraged face. “Women who kidnap are most likely to prey on those closest to them and it’s extremely rare for a female offender to abduct an adult male outside of maybe a woman scorned case, but here we have too many guys for it to be a fatal attraction thing.” 

Cisco looked bummed that part of his theory had been shot down. Barry laughed.

Barry slapped a consoling hand on his friend’s shoulder. “For whatever reason, Cisco attracts bad girls. I think he thinks of ever female meta as potentially ‘the one.’” 

“You never know,” Cisco muttered. 

“Except this meta is snatching guys to parts unknown for reasons unknown,” Joe reminded him. “Furthermore, even though we haven’t found any bodies, if this meta is actually like the biblical plagues, the first-borns all die. That makes it even less likely that it’s a woman. The percentage of female serial killers and mass murders is less than a fraction of a percentage.” Joe slashed through the word ‘female’ and circled ‘male’ several times. 

“Fine,” Cisco said. “All we gotta do is figure out where our mystery guy plans to strike next and how to negate block his MIB Memory Eraser and his ability to phase.” Cisco bounced in his seat, clearly excited by the challenge. “Barry, we can use you and Wally to figure out the phasing part. Cool?”

“Of course,” Barry said.

“And then I can get Julian on the Memory Eraser thing. Or maybe vice versa, do you still have a problem working with him? ‘Cause the memory thing sounds so cool, I—“ 

“Guys, I think we’re all overlooking something really important here,” Oliver interrupted breaking up their planning huddle.

“Like what? Me, Julian, Wally, and Barry are covering the meta powers part, Joe and Iris can work on narrowing down which households have first-borns, and you know Star City like the back of your hand which means you can help us get where we need to be. Assuming you're in. You are in, right? I know you've been semi-retired, but you can't spell 'All Star Team Up' without the Star City Vigilante."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “What about the fact that Barry, Wally, and I are all first-born sons?” 

Cisco’s mouth dropped into an ‘o’, his hands slowly coming up to cover the lower half of his face.

“Shoot,” Barry said, the gravity of the situation dawning on him. “You are, too, Joe.” 

“Does ‘only’ count as first?” Joe asked. 

“It did for Matt Jenson,” Oliver reminded them.

“I have never been happier to be second-born in my life,” Cisco said quickly. 

“What about Julian?” Barry asked. 

“I’ve only ever heard him mention a sister. How have we never realized that almost everybody in our All-Star Team Up is the first-born son in their family?” Cisco tilted his head with his brow furrowed. “What is the statistical probability of that?”

“What about that kid you used to work with?” Joe asked. 

“Which one?”

“Back when you were The Hood.”

“Oh yeah! Parkour Kid,” Cisco said with a laugh. “That guy had crazy hops.” 

Barry rolled his eyes. “They both mean Roy.” 

Oliver shook his head. “He’s an only child. Plus, he fled the city after almost dying in prison for me. Even if I knew where he was, I wouldn’t call him back to potentially be kidnapped by a maniac.”

Cisco shoved a hand through his long “Well, short of calling in Jesse, Gypsy, and Kara, who are obviously not first-born sons, I’m out of ideas.” 

“Is that an option?” Oliver asked. 

“Actually, no. Last I heard from Kara, she was battling an aunt or something for the fate of her Earth. Jesse is protecting Earth-3 while Jay Garrick is gone. If we pull her, they have no one. And Gypsy is currently incommunicado. I don’t know why.”

“Maybe we could just all be in Central City this Friday?” Barry suggested haltingly. 

“And what? Bounce indefinitely between each city every Friday? I’m the _mayor_. I’d have to have a very good reason to not be there and ‘My son and I are at risk of being kidnapped so we’re leaving. Good luck to you’ probably won’t cut it.” 

Barry’s face fell and he sucked in a breath. “I forgot about William. What do you want to do?” 

“I don't know. I need to contact Lyla. JJ is first-born as well,” Oliver said, considering the logistics. “Maybe we can get them to an ARGUS safe house outside of Star City. We’d have to make sure none of the guards were first-born either.” 

“Do you think this oddly high correlation between first-born and masked crime fighter is an alpha male thing?” Cisco asked.

“Would that make you alpha or beta?” Barry asked with a smirk. “You’re a second-born but you have powers and you use them to help masked crime fighters.” 

“My awesomeness defies classification.” Cisco shot an annoyed squint at Barry. He then turned to Oliver. “Either way, as a second-born, I’m safe in either city. I could go wherever with JJ and William and if things look hinky, I can vibe them out of there. Lyla could either stay with us or go with you guys. I mean, she’s not Dig, but she’s still Diggle-level of bad ass. Seriously, that lady scares me a little.”

“Thanks, Cisco. Let me know when you guys have figured out how to stop the memory and phasing stuff. I have something else I need to take care of.” 

Barry and Cisco nodded and dove back into their geek fest.

"I noticed you ignored Cisco's question," Joe said quietly.

"Can't give an answer you don't have," Oliver replied as he walked.

*

A short time later, Oliver found himself standing at the end of a corridor, staring at the golden numbers on a closed door. He’d approached and walked away half a dozen times, but hadn’t managed to knock. He knew it was dumb, but couldn't help it. Just as he was psyching himself up to do so or leave completely, the door swung open.

“I know you’re using to sneaking around in the shadows, but hanging outside of my home, staring at the door is a new level of creepy, Oliver.”

Lyla wore a navy-blue V-neck and yoga pants. Physically, she looked just as pulled together as she did in the blazer or BDUs she usually wore to work. But studying her, Oliver could see the faint signs of grief. Small bags under eyes, sharper cheeks. She’d lost weight since the last time he’d seen her. 

At John’s funeral. Remembering his friend, Oliver felt ashamed that he’d not come to see Lyla sooner. 

When Oliver had first met Diggle, John had been compulsively checking in on his brother’s widow. John had felt guilty over Andy’s death and routinely checked on Carly and her son, A.J. Apparently, despite often saying that John was closer than a brother, it hadn’t even occurred to Oliver to do the same.

“And now you’ve gone from staring at my door to staring at _me_.” Lyla leaned against said door and motioned behind her. “Would you like to come inside? Maybe stare at the living room walls? The coffee table is particularly nice as well.”

Oliver cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I’m sorry—I… if you don’t mind.” 

Lyla stepped back, clearing a path for him. “Have a seat.”

Oliver crossed the few steps from the door to the living room and sat on the sofa. The room looked much like it did the last time he was here. 

When he’d punched John in the face for trying to stop the Bratva from stealing drugs in exchange for murdering Adrian Chase. 

And still, the next time Oliver need him, John had shown up.

“So what major threat has brought you here tonight?” Lyla asked as she settled on the couch perpendicular to where he sat, tucking her legs under her.

Oliver lifted an eyebrow. “What makes you think there’s a threat? 

A sad smile tilted her lips. “Oliver, I might not be John, but I still know you pretty well. You haven’t been here in months because seeing us reminds you too much of Johnny. From what I’ve seen, you’ve put your head down and buried yourself in work and raising your son. Which is fine. I’ve done the same. But now, something big has happened. Big enough to make you come see me face to face despite how you feel. So what is it?” 

“Dig always said you were scary smart.” Oliver sighed and ran a hand over his hair which was getting a bit longer than he usually preferred. “There’s been a rash of disappearances. Guys disappearing into thin air. Barry and I put our heads together and pieced together that it’s a meta and he’s targeting first-born boys, snatching them from impossible situations. Crowded areas. Locked rooms. And no one sees it happen. Not even surveillance cameras. We expect him to hit again on Friday. Some of the missing are kids and I thought off JJ.” 

Lyla blanched and swallowed hard. On many people, it would have looked like a helpless and involuntary motion. On her, it looked hard and resolute. “What do you need me to do?”

“I was hoping we could stash J.J. and William in an ARGUS safe house outside of Star City. Cisco is the second son in his family so he thought maybe you and he could go together and keep the boys safe.

“Yes. Absolutely. I will protect them with my life if I have to.” 

Oliver sat back as the words echoed in his ears. With her life. Oliver blinked hard, moisture burning in his eyes.

Lyla broke eye contact. She turned her head and looked down the hallway. Oliver could hear the sounds of TV show drifting from JJ’s room. It was the only noise as Oliver and Lyla sat uncomfortably without speaking any further. 

Finally, Lyla cleared her throat. “Will the Green Arrow be in Star City on Friday?”

Oliver closed his eyes against the question. Maybe it would be easier if he couldn’t see her face. “I’ve been thinking about it. Barry would never say it, but he's a first born, too. He's taking a risk to protect my city and my family.” 

“And if The Flash weren't a close friend doing a personal favor? What would you be thinking then?” 

Oliver took a deep breath. “I would think the Green Arrow has done enough damage.”

Lyla didn’t immediately respond. She appeared to be thinking. She rubbed a hand across the juncture where her neck met her shoulder before wrapping her arms around her midriff. “The damage you’re talking about wasn’t caused by the Green Arrow. It was Prometheus.” 

Oliver leaned his head back against the sofa cushion and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “I know. I’ve heard this all before. And in my head, I know that with all the innocent people he killed, he probably would have still been a killer even if his dad was still alive, even if I’d never shown up. But every time something happens in the city and I think, ‘hey, I could stop that,’ I stop cold before I get anywhere near suiting up.”

“Why?”

The soft question floated over Oliver and he sat up to look at her. “Because I can’t stop thinking, ‘What if I trigger another one?’ What if ten years from now, when I’m not as fast as I used to be and that bow is harder to pull, William is walking around looking just enough like me and somebody decides that’s the time for revenge? Lyla, that scares me shitless.”

She hummed. “The age-old dilemma. What if your action provokes a bigger and uncontrollable reaction. John and I lived that every day. I still do. Do you have any idea how many civilians have been collateral damage to actions by ARGUS? Or US military operations?”

“Some would say even one is one too many.” 

“Probably. But they don’t know what you and I know, Ollie. That there are bad guys out there like Damien Dahrk who would destroy the whole world if we didn’t take them out and that’s how something as tragic as the loss of an innocent life can suddenly fall into the category of ‘acceptable loss.’”

“But then you accidentally created people like Prometheus. Or Artemis.” 

“Or Ragman,” Lyla said softly. “Rory chose to use his tragedy to help people. And I bet you haven’t even thought about the fact that J.J. or William might end up wearing masks. Young boy from Central City witnesses his mother’s death and is told it’s his father’s fault. Sound familiar?”

Oliver made a sound like he might be sick. He actually _had_ thought about it, but then stuffed it in the darkest corner of his mind and slammed as many mental walls and doors in front of it as he could. That was not the life he wanted for William even if the boy could manage to be more like Barry than Oliver. 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Lyla gave a dark chuckle and Oliver sighed. “What do you think I should do?” 

“I can’t answer that for you. If you decide you just want to be mayor and raise William, I’ll support you. But if you’re doing it because you think bad guys will stop coming to Star City if Green Arrow isn’t here to fight them, you’re wrong. You haven’t worn your suit in months and they’re still here and still coming.” 

Oliver sat for a long moment, no closer to make a decision.

Finally, he looked at Lyla who studied him with no judgment in her eyes. “I’m really sorry about John.”

She smiled. “I know. But Johnny died the same way he lived: Fighting beside his friends and trying to do the right thing. He wouldn’t want you to spend your life feeling guilty about this.”

Oliver nodded and stood. Lyla joined him. Despite his general feelings on the matter, he gave her a hug. “Thanks for listening. If you ever need anything, _anything_ , don’t hesitate to call. I’ll be offended if you don’t.”

She returned the hug and stepped back, swiping quickly at her eyes. “Deal. I’ll see you Thursday night.”

She opened the door and Oliver stepped out. He waited until he heard the locks engage before leaving.

He would be here Thursday night, but would it be as Oliver Queen or the man in the mask?


	9. Chapter 9

Wednesday found Oliver sitting on the couch, his leather suit slung across his lap. He’d wiped off the ash and traces of blood, but it still reeked of smoke.

William had walked past the bathroom as Oliver worked at cleaning his gear. Whatever William had been about to say was lost as the boy stood frozen in place, his eyes wide as the pale full moon he resembled as the blood drained from his face. Before Oliver could even speak, William had turned on his heels and barreled up the stairs, locking himself in the upper level bathroom. Despite thirty minutes of trying, Oliver hadn’t been able to coax him out. 

So, he’d come back downstairs to wait. And think. 

This still didn’t feel right. Putting his suit back on felt like trying to slip back into his old life. Much like the leather was stiff from lack of use, his old life didn’t fit anymore. Couldn’t fit. Everything had changed. Could he really go out there, knowing that Dig and Felicity weren’t there to watch his back? Knowing that if he didn’t make it back, he was leaving his son all alone? 

Oliver loosely folded the leathers and hung them on the sofa arm. He picked up his bow and considered if for a moment before he pulled out his repair kit. His trusty bow had caused just as many problems as it solved, but even after so many months away, it still felt like a natural extension of his body.

He grabbed the tube of wax and ran it along the string, careful to apply it end to end. Then he used his fingers and thumb to work the wax in, rubbing until the friction melted it into the string fibers, making them slightly tacky to the touch.  He’d restrung his bow not long before the last time he’d used it, but the time spent resting haphazardly in the closet hadn’t done it any favors.

Oliver lost himself in the maintenance routine, lubricating the axles and cables, checking the serving around the coils and the nocking point, testing the feel. He let his mind roam to the point that he almost missed the soft squeak of the upstairs bathroom opening.

He continued to work as soft footsteps creep overhead and then down the loft stairs. A few moments later, William slipped around the sofa arm and slouched onto the seat next to Oliver. The boy’s eyes wandered over all of the gear that he probably would have sacrificed precious body parts to see this time last year, but there was no amusement or wonder in his gaze now.

“You’re going back out there.’

If was flat. Not a question. Not an accusation. It reminded Oliver of William’s flat affect when he’d relayed what Chase said about saving Samantha. Oliver now recognized it as a shield. When William was completely distraught, he would settle, eerily calm and still, and his voice would become emotionless as he spoke. It was his way of staving off the feeling of being overwhelmed. His emotions couldn’t hurt him if he avoided them all together. A burning guilt gnawed at Oliver’s gut that he’d returned William to that void. 

“I think I have to.”

“What if I asked you not to?” The question was a whisper. William hadn’t even turned to look Oliver. Instead his eyes remained fixed on some distant point in front of him.

Oliver blinked hard, the burning now behind his eyes. He carefully sat his bow on the table and swallowed against the tickle in his throat before speaking. “I would respect that. There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for you. But can I tell you why I’m doing this before you do?”

After a long moment where Oliver was sure the boy would just issue his ultimatum, William gave a slow nod of his head.

“I know that… what happened, earlier this year… was really hard. On both of us. And it wasn’t easy for you to come live with me. But I think we’ve been making it work. You’ve gotten used to me and probably decided I’m not so bad, right?” Oliver asked with a small smile.

William gave a watery-eyed smirk that only pulled at one side of his mouth and a small shrug.

“But now, I’m talking about going back out and doing something dangerous. The last time you saw me in my Green Arrow suit was a really bad day. People… people that were important to you, to me, to both of us, died. So, it’s only natural that you’d be afraid that something might happen to _me_ this time if I go back out there again. Am I right?”

William looked at Oliver with eyes so sad, Oliver wanted to give him puppies and popsicles and whatever else a ten-year-old might want just to make it stop. The boy nodded. 

“You’re a smart boy. I’ll always try to be honest with you whenever I can,” Oliver said. “We both know I don’t have superpowers. I want to help people, but I’m a regular guy and I _can_ get hurt. That’s why I haven’t gone out since we’ve been back. I’m just as afraid as you are that something will happen to me and you’ll be left alone.”

William shifted back on to the couch and pulled his legs up into chest. He wiped his eyes and rested his head against his knees. “But you want to go out any way.”

“No. I don’t _want_ to go,” Oliver insisted. He put a hand on the back of William’s neck for a brief moment before settling his hand back in his own lap. “More than anything, I want to stay here with you and pretend like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. But…” Oliver looked around the room as they he might somehow find the words he needed hiding in the nooks or corners somewhere.

“You don’t know this, but my mom died right in front of me. A bad man hurt her and there was nothing I could do to stop him. I watched her die not even five feet away from me." 

William lifted his head and his eyes widened. “Why did he hurt her?”

“He was sick. Drugs had messed up his mind. He’d convinced himself that every bad thing that happened to him was my fault. So, he wanted to make me hurt like he hurt.” Oliver shook his head thinking about Slade. He’d spent years furious at the man. But now the only mental picture of him he could see was the man’s dead body trying to shield Samantha. “The last time I talked to him, he apologized to me. Told me he’d realized how wrong it was to blame me.”

William’s gaze flitted down for a moment before it lifted right back up, anger lighting a blaze behind his eyes. “You let him live after he killed your mom? I would have killed him.” 

“No, you wouldn’t have. Because you’re a good person and that’s the last thing either of our moms would have wanted.”

The anger flickered out and William huffed. “Well, I would have locked him up somewhere he could never get out.”

A grim smile tilted Oliver’s lips. “Trust me. I did.  But the point is, I remember that helpless feeling. And the hurt. It hurt every day. Like crazy. Even on days when I would pretend to be okay because I could tell I was worrying the people around me. After a while, it started to fade a little. Then the island happened. I lost my sister. My best friend. The woman I thought I’d marry someday. A man I’ve known since I was your age. My entire team, people who’ve helped me for years. That feeling started all over again.”

Oliver turned on the couch to face William who was watching him, waiting for a real reason why he should have to risk the only person left who was looking out for him.

“There’s something going on in the city. There’s a bad guy who’s kidnapping people. Taking them away from their family. No one knows what he’s doing with them. And their families? They’re losing their sons. Their brothers. Their husbands. Their fathers. They’re feeling that same pain you and I are. And I have reason to believe it’s going to happen again very soon.”

“But you can stop him.”

“I can stop him. I can make sure nobody else has to feel this way. But I have to go back out there.” 

“Promise me you’ll come back?” William’s voice somehow sounded even tinier now, reminding Oliver that no matter how mature he pretended to be, William was just a ten-year-old that had found out the hard way that the good guys don’t always win and not everyone gets to live happily ever after.

Oliver grimaced and tried to figure out how to reassure the kid without lying to him. “I told you I’d always be as honest with you as I can, so I can’t make that promise. But I will promise you this: After my family’s boat sank, I fought for five years to get back to my mom and my little sister. I would fight even harder to get back to you.”

William nestled his chin against his knees and studied his fingers. His lips disappeared between his teeth into a thin white line. He stared at Oliver’s bow with a scary intensity for several long moments before turning the look onto Oliver.

“Make sure he never hurts anyone again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter coming up...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait for this chapter. I had midterms this week and started a new job! Super busy. But this was still niggling at the back of my mind waiting to be finished. Hope you like it!

Thursday night, Oliver found himself back in Central City at Star Labs. He had already dropped off with William with Lyla and Cisco, who had immediately bagn asking Lyla about every government conspiracy he could think of.

When Lyla had seen duffle bag in which Oliver carried his suit, bow, and quiver she’d given him a look that Oliver wanted to interpret as approval, but it may have been a simple understanding. She of all people would understand sacrificing personal wants and needs for the greater good.

The hardest part had been leaving William. Returning to the hood meant accepting that every time he put it on might be the last time Oliver ever saw his loved ones, a thought that nearly made Oliver physically ill. But he was a father and his job was to reassure his son. William tried but didn’t quite succeed at maintaining a stoic face. Oliver had always assumed that he himself had inherited his blank ‘game face’ from Moira, but maybe it had been partially learned as well. 

Oliver knelt in front of his son. “You be good for Cisco and Lyla. They will make sure you’re safe. Lyla says she bought that new Flash cartoon movie for you and JJ. You’ll have to tell how it was when I get back.”

William nodded, a small movement that would have been easy to miss if Oliver weren’t so accustomed to having to really work to tell how William was feeling. 

Although he hadn’t explained about Spartan, Oliver had told William about Diggle being Oliver’s best friend and how Diggle had tried to protect Samantha on the island. The boy also knew that Diggle had been JJ’s father and Lyla’s husband and that Lyla ran the organization that had rescued him and Oliver from the island.

“I know it’s scary, William, but you’ll be okay.” Oliver pulled the boy in for a hug and whispered into his ear. “I promised you I will always do everything in my power to come back to you.”

The hug lasted for a long minute where William pretended that Oliver wasn’t hugging hard enough to hurt and Oliver pretended not to feel hot wetness where William had tucked his face against Oliver’s neck. Oliver hugged until William let go before climbing back to his feet. He looked over to the two people he was entrusting with his son’s life.

“Take care of him guys.” Even Oliver could hear the plea coloring his words.

“Absolutely,” Lyla responded. She was in her civilian clothes, but her posture made it clear the ARGUS director was on duty.

“The gates of hell will not prevail,” Cisco said with a salute.

Oliver squinted which made Cisco squirm with a belated sense of self-consciousness. “Since we decided this dude was biblical, I may have looked up some Bible verses. It’s a surprisingly badass book. For quotes, anyway.”

“Try not to have too much fun, Cisco,” Oliver said as he turned to walk away, feeling William’s stare the whole way.

By the time he arrived at Star Labs, Oliver had pushed the doubts to that dark corner of his mind reserved for things he couldn’t think about lest they overwhelm him. That corner was starting to get pretty full, but for now he had to keep going.

While he had been gone, Cisco and Barry had come up with power dampeners that would keep the members of their team from being abducted, phased through or memory stunned. Barry handed him one shortly after Oliver walked through the door.

“How do they work?” Oliver asked, turning over the gizmos that looked like metal headbands from the 80s. 

“Well, we were trying to think of how to counteract powers when it hit us that we do it all day every day. The containment cells absorb powers. They’re made out the remains of the particle accelerator. For some reason, the source of the power cancels the power or something.”

Oliver hummed. “How do you keep it from negating your powers?”

“We reversed the charge. We usually use it to keep powers in. Reverse it and it keeps things out.”

“So, if we’re wearing this, meta-humans basically can’t hurt us?” Oliver asked.

Barry shook his head. “Cisco said to think of them as a bullet proof vest. They don’t stop you from feeling the impact, they simply lower the bullets’ chances of killing you. You’ll still probably end up with bruises and maybe broken ribs. Wearing a vest is not permission to stand in front of a machine gun with no fear, and the vest will not stop knives because it’s not meant to.”

“Got it. Avoid getting hit is still plan A, the metal headbands are plan B.”

Barry laughed. “Cisco would be so hurt to hear you call his anti-meta crowns ‘metal headbands.’” 

Oliver grimaced at the name. “Yeah, well, until he can beat me in a fistfight, I’ll do what I want.” 

“You’d better watch out, Ollie. He’s got powers now.” 

“Then it’s a good thing somebody gave me a metal headband to protect myself with, huh?”

Laughter echoed behind Oliver as he left the main lab to find a place to get suited up. By the time he returned, Joe had arrived. The older man was frowning as he considered Cisco’s gadget. 

“Do we really have to wear metal headbands?” 

Oliver swallowed a laugh and gave Barry a ‘told you’ face.

“It’s the best we could come up with in less than three days. What’s the big deal?” 

“Asks the man whose face will be hidden by a mask,” muttered Joe, but he unceremoniously plopped the headband in place. “Okay, so here is what Iris and I were able to find out.”

Based on the strike pattern, triangulation, and his seeming familiarity with both cities, it was likely that Plague had lived in Star City at some point before moving to Central City. He was obviously in Central City when the particle accelerator exploded. 

Given that meta powers were often tied into the life the meta was living at the time of the explosion, Joe and Iris ventured a guess that Plague was likely a first-born son himself. It was also possible that he had a first-born son, but they’d never met a meta over the age of forty and it seemed unlikely that a kid could trigger a kidnapping spree that included both children and adults. 

Using the profile of a male Star City native who had ended up in Central City, first-born son under the age of 40 who had likely gone completely off the grid three years ago, they were able to find five potential matches. Two had died, one was in prison and one had simply moved to another city. That left them with one potential unaccounted for. 

“Garret Keller, age twenty-seven,” Joes said, holding up a picture of a slim, blonde man. “Moved to Central City from Star City when he was nineteen.” 

“Which means he got his powers when he was twenty-four,” Barry murmured. 

“Any idea of what set him off?”

“According to his records, he was born in Star City to a couple of teenagers. They couldn’t keep him so they gave him up for adoption.” Joe laid out photos of a small, blonde haired boy. He had a sad face that was mottled with bruises. Each photo Joe laid out showed Garret getting progressively older and less outwardly sad, but the bruises remained a constant. “His initial adoption held for about six years until Garret started physically acting out at school. The school nurse raised the alarm and Child Services investigated. Found proof of abuse and removed him.”

“That had to be jarring if those were the only parents Garrett had ever known,” Barry said. 

Oliver nodded in agreement. “And to suddenly find out your parents weren’t really your parents. He probably felt like he was being punished rather than rescued.” 

Joe nodded sadly. “He bounced around the system for years. He was cute little guy so he was taken in by several different families, but they couldn’t handle the aggressive behavior and he was dumped back in the system. At 18, he aged out.”

“So what brought him to Central City?” Oliver asked. 

Joe placed another photo on the table. It was smiling family, a man, a woman, a teenaged boy, and two younger, twin girls. “His birth family.” 

Barry sucked in a harsh breath. “They look picture perfect. That can’t have gone over too well.”

“I talked to them,” Joe said. “They said about four years ago, they started to feel like someone was watching them, but they never saw anyone. A few times, they noticed family pictures go missing, but didn’t know what to think of it. Then the particle accelerator exploded and everybody was worked up about the appearance of metas, they just forgot about it when it stopped. I have a unit from CCPD watching them.” 

“So, Garret was the first-born son and he was… from his perspective, taken away from this family that he probably sees as perfect,” Oliver says. “He may be taking that out on other first-borns.” 

Barry studied their victim board. “Other than Matt and Nate, it looks like he’s targeting ‘broken families.’ Jason and his wife are divorcing. Christopher’s dad is deployed, leaving him and his mom by themselves until he returns. Tyler’s dad disappeared years ago. We might even find something if we dug deep enough on Matt and Nate’s families.” 

Joe hummed in thought. “I think Garret sees himself as a rescuer. He identifies with these first-borns and is trying to rescue them from what he sees as bad situations, even if they themselves don’t think it’s bad. He was probably told a million times that he was rescued and that it was for best.” 

“Now, when he kidnaps these guys, he thinks he’s doing what’s best for them,” Oliver responded. The unease churned even stronger in his stomach. Garrett would definitely view tragic death and sudden single parenthood as ‘bad situations’. “Regardless of the why, we have to stop him. They may not be perfect, but they have families that love and miss them.”

“Agreed,” Barry said. “Okay, Oliver, if I was going to hold eleven people of varying ages hostage in Star City, where would I do it?”

Life After Death- Life After Death- Life After Death- 

Oliver had used his sway as the mayor to find out what buildings in Star City had suddenly started pulling major juice despite supposedly being vacant. Barry and Oliver searched and cleared several buildings, surprising all manner of criminals who had grown complacent with the lack of masked crime fighters in the city. 

It wasn’t until the seventh building that they found what they were looking for. On the fifth floor, they found all the missing. They were in a wide-open room that was surprisingly well-decorated. Televisions, really big ones at that, games, both board and video, books, beds, posters, a table stocked with junk food. It looked like a cross between a subdued frat house and a well-stocked dorm room. 

“Who are you?” 

Oliver found himself looking into the eyes of ten-year-old Jason Porter, one of Central City’s missing kids. “I’m here to help.” 

Jason slumped. “That’s what he said. But then he brought me here. At first it was fun, but I think he puts something in the food to keep us sleepy.” 

As the boy spoke, Oliver noticed that everyone was simply laying around, eyes open but glassy. No one was actually playing with any of the toys or electronics or any of the other forms of entertainment. It was unnatural given the hour and how young the bulk of the group was.

“Flash, can you get them out of here?” Oliver asked. 

“Yeah, of course.” Barry crossed over to the nearest victim.

“Take them to SCPD,” Oliver suggested.

“Okay. I’ll have Joe meet me there so he can explain what’s going on. He’ll probably be relieved to take his anti-meta crown off.”

Lightening crackled as Barry moved. With the kids, he was able to move more than one at a time, but with incapacitated adults who flopped like dead weight, he could only move one. Barry had already transported six of the missing when electricity tingled the air, their only warning. 

Suddenly, a man appeared through the wall holding a sleeping kid who looked to be about thirteen. The teenager had blonde hair and bruises and it was enough to trigger Oliver’s sense of déjà vu. They had definitely been right about Garret Keller identifying with his kidnap victims. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Garret asked, his voice was wearied, like a caged tiger encountering someone new. He seemed fully aware of what the Green Arrow and the Flash’s presence meant.

“You had to have known we’d come looking for missing people,” Oliver responded.

“You deal with bad guys. I’m not a bad guy. And they’re not missing. They’re home. In _our_ home,” Garrett insisted. He walked over to an empty bed and placed the boy he’d been cradling onto the bed with a surprising amount of care. He then looked around, the small smile he’d had while looking at his newest addition slipping from his face. “Where are they?! What have you done with them?!” 

“We took them somewhere you can’t hurt them,” Barry answered.

Fury reddened Garret’s face.

“ _Hurting_ them? I’m not the one hurting them. Their ‘ _families’_ are hurting them,” He spat the word out as though it were a viscous poison. “I should know. I watched them. James Evan? His family threw him in a nursing home. I watched him for months and the only people who ever come visit him are those stupid high school kids who just want something to put on their transcripts for college.” He paced, agitation twitching the muscles in his face, his hands raking through his light, wild hair. “And --- And Tyler Wilson? Every day when he gets home, there’s no one to greet him. He walks home all alone, eats dinner alone, does his homework alone, and goes to bed _alone._ That’s not right.” 

Clearly the man believed what he was saying. But Oliver had read the files. There was more to the story. 

“James Evan’s family didn’t abandon him. He outlived them. No one comes to visit because he’s the last living member of his family and he never married or had kids. And Tyler Wilson’s mother loves him to death. But she’s also a single mother who works two jobs to take care of him. She knew in less than an hour that he was missing and has come to the police department _and_ the mayor’s office every day to see if any progress has been made and to make sure everybody remembers his name and face.” 

Garrett shook his head as though the brusque movements would keep the facts from being true. 

“And Morgan over there?” Garret motioned towards the teenager he’d put on the bed. “He ends up in the emergency room two to three times a year. ‘Accident-prone’ his caseworker wrote. There’s not enough clumsy in the world to cover that.” 

Oliver was inclined to believe him. “You’re right, but kidnapping him isn’t the way to help him.” 

“Oh and you know how to help him?” 

“I can make sure he has people looking out for him. Even if I have to tell Mayor Queen, himself.” Oliver promised.

“No. No. No! I’m the only one who cares about them. I can keep them safe. Keep them happy. We’ll be a family.” Keller started to pace. 

“And what about Matt Jenson? He has two parents and two older sisters who love him and are very distraught that he’s missing. They’ve given the police close to a hundred baby pictures and Matt’s only three.” 

Once again Keller shook his head. His hands swatted through the air like he could knock away the words. “Maybe they like him now, but uh-uh, they would have--- they would have changed their minds. When he got older, they would have changed their minds.” 

It was easy to see he was talking more to himself than to his audience.

“No. I can’t let you take them.” Garret’s skin crackled and white-blue electricity formed a ball in his hand. Oliver dove out of the way as Garret hurled the electricity. It hit Oliver in the sternum before dissipating.

Oliver rolled and popped back up to his feet, feeling slightly winded from the jarring impact. “Garret, you need to stop and let us take them home.” 

A startled look stole across Garret’s face. “You can’t—You’re not supposed to remember.” 

“Well, I do, and I definitely remember that what you’re doing is wrong.”

Garret formed another ball of electricity and shot it off again. Oliver dodged again, this time feeling a sharp whack against his ankle that made him crumple to the floor. Garret was oblivious but Oliver had been watching Barry’s own orange-yellow lightning crackle as he whisked more people away. But now Oliver was stuck on the floor, his ankle already swelling against the pain. Oliver reached behind him for an arrow and popped open his bow even as Keller formed another ball of electricity. 

The air crackled with light as Barry and Garret’s powers competed for space. Barry sped across the room. Oliver couldn’t follow the speedster’s movement, especially not out of his periphery, but he tried to brace himself even as he tried to roll, knowing that Barry would do his best to sweep Oliver out of the path of the incoming strike. 

In a blink, Oliver found himself on the other side of the room, Barry by his side. Oliver took a few shaky breaths waiting for his stomach to catch up. 

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Barry said as Garret spun to face them.  “We can tell you’re trying to do something good. But these people have family. Family that misses them. They need to go home.” 

Garrett’s skin started to crackle again. “They don’t ever have to go home. We can be a perfect family. Here. Together.”

“But I want to go home.” Tyler’s small, shaky voice came from behind Keller. 

The electricity fizzled and confusion crinkled Plague’s face. “But we were having fun… I gave you ice cream and cotton candy and we stayed up playing games.” 

Tyler nodded, slumping over a little further as he did so. “Yeah, but my tummy hurts and I miss my mama.” 

Something about the wording seemed to trigger Keller and the electricity in his hand quickly reformed, but before he could throw it at the little boy, Oliver released an arrow. The stunner arrow hit its mark and Keller’s muscles locked up and he grunted before dropping to the floor. Barry zipped over and cuffed his wrists with the special Star Lab handcuffs. 

Oliver looked around at the three victims who Barry hadn’t yet rescued. They were so dazed they barely seemed aware of what was going on. This was Garret’s warped idea of the perfect family. 

Oliver sighed. “What is it with deranged sons in this town?” 

Barry laughed. “Asks the guy who sometimes shoots people with arrows.”

-Life After Death- Life After Death- Life After Death 

Eight long hours later, they finally got all the victims home. Mayor Queen had issued a statement thanking both the Flash and the Green Arrow for their roles in rescuing the citizens of both cities. That had created a media fury as outlets clamored to give their opinions as to whether or not this meant the Green Arrow was back for good. 

But Oliver’s most pressing concern was getting back to William. He met Lyla at the safe house. After correctly responding to all the security protocols he was let in. 

“How did it go here?” He asked as he entered the main area off the front door. 

“Not as badly as you would expect,” Lyla responded. She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Pulling out two beers, she offered him one, which he accepted. Lyla walked into the living room and sat on a love seat. “He was tense for the first few hours, but he really took a shine to Cisco and JJ and they had fun watching movies. Then we heard the breaking news that all the victims had been returned and that the Green Arrow and the Flash had been seen leaving the scene, he completely relaxed. They turned in a few hours ago. Cisco went with them just in case.” 

Oliver sat on the sturdy wood coffee table and sipped at his beer. “It was hard being away from him. Besides school, this is the longest I’ve been away from him since he came to live with me.” 

Lyla gave a knowing smile. “Welcome to the world of working parents everywhere, Mr. Queen.” 

They drank in silence. The plan was to leave in the morning since the boys were already asleep. They talked about Garret and the really sad circumstances that had sent him on this crusade. 

“It was like fighting my biggest fear,” Oliver said as he picked at the label on his beer bottle.  “A kid who had a traumatic childhood who grew up to be a bad guy. And the worst part is, Garret wasn’t even trying to hurt anyone. He was really confused in his own mind.” 

Lyla hummed. “We’ll get him the help he needs. But if you’re taking care of William and he has a psychologist to help him deal with the feelings, there’s not a whole lot more you can do. You just have to keep an eye on him and show him what’s right. Joe helped guide Barry. Now you can help guide your son.” 

Oliver nodded a drank a bit more of his beer. Lyla showed him the profiles of some people she’d tagged as potential crime fighters and metas. She was think of putting together a reverse suicide squad of sorts. A league for the good guys. And she wanted Oliver’s help in recruiting and training. She would help support them to begin with, but eventually they would be independent and self-governing unit.

Oliver looked at one particular folder that caught his attention. “He’s from Earth 38? I think Kara said he’s her cousin or something. Man, he could do a lot of good.” 

After they poured over the folders for a while discussing the pros and cons of each prospect, Oliver excused himself to check on William. 

William was snug in a bed, splayed out on his stomach as usual. He’d once again managed to kick out of his covers. Oliver stepped around Cisco who had made a pallet bed out of blankets on the floor between where JJ and William slept. Cisco startled as he felt Oliver’s movements and his eyes popped open. For a brief second, Oliver saw Cisco’s eyes glow as the younger man nearly activated his powers. 

“Sorry,” Oliver whispered while motioning in a shushing moment. Cisco nodded and laid back down.

 Standing over his son, Oliver pulled the blanket back up and smoothed a hand over William’s dark hair. The touch made William shift and the boy’s eyes blinked open. 

“You’re back,” he whispered.

Oliver sat on the edge of the bed and nodded. “Just like I promised.” 

“I heard everybody made it home. You stopped the bad guy.” 

Oliver hummed. “He wasn’t really a bad guy. He was just doing bad things. But there are a lot of happy families tonight.” 

“Good. Families should always be together if they can. Just like you and me.” William gave a sleepy smile and snuggled back into his pillow. “Good night.” 

“Good night,” Oliver answered. “See you in the morning, buddy.” 

Oliver sat there for a moment, immensely gratified and moved that William had started to think of them as a family. Not just two people related by blood, which they had always been, but an actual family that stuck together no matter what. Oliver didn’t know what would happen in the future, but he knew that life would go on. He'd seen first hand what happened when people got stuck in the trauma. He had to move on and keep living. He would do everything he could to make sure William always had him as family.

Oliver pressed a kiss to the side of William’s sleeping head and stood. He slowly pulled the door closed so as not to wake either boy or their sleeping protector. Before he stepped away he heard William softly say: 

“I told you my dad would come back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for hanging in there with me and all the kind words of support. It meant more than you can imagine to me.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I'd like to explore this further if there is interest. I welcome comments, but please be kind. Thisis my first attempt!


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